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Prompt: Man with the head of a Lion, a staff in his hand, parting a large Sea in half
Rhett Jacobs

Rhett Jacobs

Model: OpenArt SDXL

Prompt:

Man with the head of a Lion, a staff in his hand, parting a large Sea in half
Width: 1024
Height: 1024
Scale: 7
Steps: 25
Seed: 1470321835
Strength: 0.75
Sampler: DPM++ 2M SDE Karras
Original image

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Prompt: I sing of arms and a man, who, exiled by fate, came first from the shores of Troy to Italy and Lavinian shores; That man, much tossed about on land and sea by the power of the gods above, due to the unrelenting anger of cruel Juno. He also endured much in war, until he could found a city and bring his gods to Latium, from which came the Latin race, the Alban fathers, and the walls of high Rome. Muse, tell me the reasons, by what divine will injured, or grieving at what, the queen of the gods drove a man of such distinguished piety to endure so many misfortunes, to encounter so many labors. Can there be such anger in heavenly minds?
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Prompt: "O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand Disperses thunder on the seas and land, Disposing all with absolute command. How could my pious son thy power incense? Or what, alas! is vanished Troy's offense? Our hope of Italy not only lost, On various seas by various tempests tossed, But shut from every shore and barred from every coast. You promised once, a progeny divine Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, In after times should hold the world in awe, And to the land and ocean give the law. How is your doom reversed, which eased my care When Troy was ruined in that cruel war? Then fates to fates I could oppose; but now, When Fortune still pursues her former blow, What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? What end of labors has your will decreed? Antenor, from the midst of Grecian hosts, Could pass secure, and pierce the Illyrian coasts, Where, rolling down the steep, Timavus raves And through nine channels disembogue his waves. At length he founded Padua's happy seat, And gave his Trojans a secure retreat. There fixed their arms, and there renewed their name, And there in quiet rules and crowned with fame. But we, descended from your sacred line, Entitled to your heaven and rites divine, Are banished earth; and, for the wrath of one, Removed from Latium and the promised throne. Are these our scepters? these our due rewards? And is it thus that Jove his plighted faith regards?" - artwork in the style of Ruth Thompson